PTB Writing Challenge 2013
by tItAnIUm AprIl
Summary: This is my entry for PTB Challenge. I will be writing 52 one shots (one for each week) for this challenge, and they will be connecting to each other. I have planned to present them as glimpses from a complete story. The main characters are Hermione Granger and Bonnie McCullough, which means all the stories will be focusing on the two girls. AH/OOC...
1. The Beginning of their story

**_Challenge #1 - Rocky Horizons_**

**_Date Posted : January 24th, 2013_**

**_Fandom: Harry Potter _**

**_Rating: K+_**

**_Genre: AH / OOC _**

**_Content Descriptors: Fluff_**

**_Character Pairing: Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy_**

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters used in this story, the story line is though my idea.**

**Special Thanks to my beta AprilLittle for all the help:) and heartstrings13 for the support.  
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Climbing came naturally to him, as he inherited the extraordinary genes of Lucius Malfoy, famous rock climber of another time. Before even realizing it, his small climbing games of childhood turned into a serious profession. It was his passion now - the one reason he woke up every morning.

Until the bright sunny Sunday afternoon he met her.

She was a pretty girl of his same age group. Her brown eyes were wandering through the rocky region, searching for someone or something. Her brown bushy hair was tied tightly into a pony tail. She was bossing around her group of friends - instead of feeling the adrenaline rushing through her veins, she was just plain annoyed.

"Excuse me?" He asked politely as he approached her. She looked angrily at his face, then looked away again, wiping the sweat beads off her forehead. He noticed stains of chalk, sand stone and something he suspected was blood around her elbow.

"Are you injured?" He asked, for he was genuinely concerned.

"No, I am not," she replied curtly.

"Is there anything I could help you with?" He asked again, keeping his eyes fixed on her frowning face. She turned again to him, and this time her expression was of exasperation.

"I'm sorry, I should have introduced myself to you first. Draco Malfoy. I work for the institute as a trainer," he said, offering his hand to her.

Before she could reply, a small girl with red, straight hair spoke up, "You mean the rock climbing institute down there?" The girl came forward and shook his hand, adding, "Nice to meet you, Mr. Malfoy. I'm Ginny Weasley."

"I don't see your tour guide..." he said, looking at Ginny while shading his eyes with his hand.

Ginny hesitated before replying. She glanced sideways at her friend and replied timidly, "We didn't take any guide actually."

Draco eyed the girl with bushy hair carefully, "It's not a good idea to climb without a guide or trainer, or at least a team member who has previous experience. I take it all three of you are new to this."

Ginny waited and glanced at her other companion, a delicate Asian girl. "Actually we have one more member in our group... he said he had done this before. But now it seems he is not as experienced as he boasted." Ginny apologetically glanced back at the girl with the bushy hair and Draco caught the beauty giving the redhead a glare.

"Where is your friend?" Draco asked.

"He is -"Ginny ran a quick eye through the entire region and finally pointed to a small figure in the distance, "There!"

Draco took a moment to debate over the situation. Certainly he could help these four, and that would be the best decision; however, something made him hesitate. Perhaps it was the beautiful brunette using her eyes to shoot daggers at him; she might react terribly if he offered his help to them. He pondered just a moment longer.

"You certainly need help, and if you don't mind, I can be that help," he said. Ginny's face lit up at the suggestion, just as the distant figure finally came close enough to speak.

"Thanks so very much for your concern, but we do not need your help," the boy said in a rude, hoarse voice.

"Seamus..."

"It's okay, Ginny," Seamus arrogantly cut her off. "I know exactly what we need now. Come on Cho, Hermione."

Draco felt a stir inside his stomach. So that is her name? Hermione?

"Enough, Seamus. You do not know a single thing about rock-climbing, and now please admit it." Finally! She spoke! Draco found himself amused by her authoritative tone and diction. " Mr. Malfoy..."she turned to him, "I hope you are not toying with us?"

"Why would I?" He shrugged innocently.

"Well, then, we are following Mr. Malfoy," she declared.

"But, Hermione," Seamus started speaking, but stopped abruptly as she flashed a fiery look at him. Draco noticed the other two girls pressing their lips together tightly in order to hold in their giggles.

Draco got into his trainer mode, and in the next hour the team was in a balanced condition, ready to finish their trip. He called out to the small gang like a drill sergeant, "Okay, guys, it's 4 o'clock now and we need to break down all the anchors, re-rack the gear and coil the ropes. Move quickly and follow me carefully." Hermione proved to be a good learner, so was Ginny. Cho, however, was too delicate for such an adventure, on top of being constantly distracted by Seamus.

Bit by bit, the gear was brought back to the bottom of the main crag, re-organized, and packed away into their rucksacks. The team was slowly loosening up after the heavy agitation caused by the obstacles at the beginning of their adventure, and as astonishing as it may sound, Hermione was smiling while working.

"Here, let me take that rope," she said, flashing a faint smile at Draco. He felt momentarily lightheaded from the exchange. _She is particularly pretty_, he mused to himself.

"All right, guys, down to the mini bus. Be quick, but careful of injuries," he cautioned, looking at the bruises on Hermione's elbow.

After landing on the plains successfully, each of them was tired, but their faces were bright. Except Seamus and Cho. The big fat ego of Seamus Finnigan was injured very badly, and Cho was brooding over a red polished fingernail that broke somewhere in the middle of the trip.

"So, had fun?" Draco asked while flashing his best smile. He stood beside Hermione, whose eyes were lost in the horizon.

"It's so beautiful, isn't it?" she mumbled while staring at the setting sun. Dark crimson painted the sky, with pink splattered on the thin waves of clouds. "Is it always this beautiful here?"

"It is. But we do not get to enjoy the view because of our busy schedules," he stated honestly, shaking his head sadly.

"Well, that's too bad," she said, turning to face him. She was confused suddenly, "Were you saying something?"

"I was asking if you enjoyed the day," Draco responded.

"Not exactly. You see, I am not really an outdoor person. My idea of a perfect weekend is to spend time in my library with my cats, rather than getting injured in a rocky region like this," she confessed, before realizing she was talking to someone who was almost a complete stranger. Embarrassed, she lowered her head and spotted the mud and dirt in her shoes. "I hate dirt," she mumbled slowly.

"I figured that from your attitude. And the lack of skills that your friend, Seamus, has are responsible for your -" Draco hinted to her bruises, "Injuries. You should not be so trusting with some people."

"I trusted you!" The line slipped from her tongue before she could swallow it back. She started regretting instantly, "Besides, Seamus is my childhood friend."

Draco stared at her beautiful face; she was looking so fresh in the evening glow, the whole day's tiredness vanished the moment he looked at her. Hermione lowered her head awkwardly. He could not decide if the pink glow on her face was the natural light or if she was blushing; the idea of her blushing was quite amazing to him.

"Seamus has a habit of trying new things, and he often screws them up by overlooking smaller details. He's a nice guy though, and a very good friend," Hermione explained.

Ginny was waving wildly and calling Hermione's name loudly.

"We need to leave now. It takes nearly three hours to reach the town from here, and then we have a party to attend," Hermione told him in a coy manner, which made her look even more adorable. Draco smirked inwardly. So, Miss Bossy could speak this way too.

"Sure. By the way, this is my number. Feel free to call me next time you're in the mood for climbing," said Draco awkwardly, cursing his desperation to achieve a single opportunity when he would be able to spend some time alone with this girl. He did not care what her friends might be thinking of him, or how he could arrange his busy schedule for a bit of free time, he just wanted to be with her.

Hermione accepted the number and Draco noticed a soft baby pink glow creeping up through her neck and lighting upon her cheeks and ears. She smiled shyly and muttered, "I might plan for a trip next weekend. Would you be free then?"

"I will make time," Draco breathlessly replied. Next weekend meant seven more days...seven awfully long, boring days.

"I _do_ wish to learn the art of climbing rocks, you know," she said while running her hand through her hair.

"I would love a sincere and intelligent student." _And not to mention, pretty._Draco flashed a genuine smile.

Before that day, rock climbing was Draco Malfoy's one and only passion; his reason to get up every morning.

Then he met Hermione Granger.

And from that day on, _she_ became his reason to wake up every morning.

Their story did not end there, it actually started at that point. Life never ends abruptly with a happy song and scrolling credits. Life continues on, creating new moments and memories each and every day. Draco and Hermione spent a long and eventful life together after that one Sunday; they dated for a year, met each other's families. Then a lot of incidents and accidents happened with the couple those changed their outlook on life, shook their beliefs and ideas.

But that is another story to be told.

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_**A/N: This is my first entry for the PTB Writing Challenge 2013. Also this is my very first Harry Potter fiction. Personally I am not much satisfied with this one, but it was a bit difficult for me with the challenge theme given. I even wanted to try something metaphoric, but that didn't work for me... * deep sigh***_

_**But its just the first challenge right?**_

_**Reviews are much appreciated.**_

_**Thank you for reading:):):)**_


	2. The Lonely Castle

_**#3: Word Play**_

_**Date Posted: February 9th, 2013**_

_**Fandom: Crossover - Harry Potter X Vampire Diaries**_

_**Rating – T**_

_**Genre – AH**_

_**Content Descriptors- Crime**_

_**Characters- Hermione Granger, Bonnie McCullough.**_

_**Disclaimer: All publicly recognized characters are owned by their original authors. Only the plot is mine.**_

_**Special thanks to my beta AprilLittle and pre-reader Heartstrings13.**_

_**A/N: This happened a couple of of months after the Sunday Hermione and Draco met. They are dating currently. You will find a mysterious lady in this chapter, whose identity will be revealed later.**_

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_**~~ The Lonely Castle ~~**_

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Granger:

The cold, black eyes glared at her, slightly daunting her intelligence. Hermione tore her eyes away, instead staring at the fully bloomed roses in the garden which was visible from where she sat on the stairs. The sweet scent slowly permeating the evening air reminded her of her childhood, when she used to learn how to take care of roses from her mother. Her mother would look up at the sky, smell the air and smile proudly, looking back at her roses.

"Spring is coming," Hermione mumbled softly to herself.

"Beautiful evening isn't it?" The lady asked, surprising Hermione when her voice did not sound as malevolent as it did a couple of moments back. Hermione simply ignored the lady and kept her focus on the blood-red roses.

"Now get up girl. It's getting late and we have a lot to do." The lady rose to her feet and waited for Hermione to get up as well. The strangely constructed spiral stairs were empty now, for most of the visitors had headed down to the exit. The closing time of the magnificent castle was 6 o'clock. Just three minutes left, Hermione thought while glancing at her wristwatch.

Noticing two robust blond security men hulking around the landing of the staircase, Hermione asked, "Aren't they going to close it?"

"Yes, they will," the lady replied back, frowning at Hermione. Apparently her guise of innocence did not work on the lady. "Given your ensnared situation, I hope you are not plotting anything against me or my men, Ms. Granger?"

The sudden change in her intonation snapped Hermione's mind back from the plans she had been putting together in her head. She shot the lady a menacing glare.

"Threats never work on me, you know. I could leave this place whenever I wish, and none of your threats hold enough power to stop me from doing that. I am not planning any such thing, because I am curious about the Tomb myself ; I want to know the truth behind the myth," she finished and rose, clutching the iron railings of the staircase to support herself.

"And -" the lady whispered into her ear, "you do not want to cause any harm to your best friend, do you?" She winked. "It's 6 o'clock already. Come on, Ms. Granger, we have a lot of jobs to be done." She smiled, her dark eyes twinkled perilously and Hermione observed how devious the lady looked in the sinister darkness of the old castle.

McCullough:

She was walking fairly fast, the bag on her shoulder feeling like a heavy burden, especially now, when she needed to move faster. Halting at the entrance of the empty corridor that headed to the main exit, she checked her Blackberry. Only three minutes until close. She muttered under her breath and started running, clutching her bag against her chest now.

A small pudgy figure crossed in front of her, causing her to skid to a halt; she stared after a woman who appeared to be in her twenties and a young girl trailing behind. "Come, Lucy, this way," said the woman, grabbing the small hands of the girl, quickening their pace.

"Why are we running, Mommy?" The little girl's voice resembled a tiny bell ringing merrily. She seemed to be enjoying the haste.

"We are running because we are late, and Daddy is waiting for us in the parking lot. Come now."

Bonnie turned to the little girl and observed her cherubic features, her copper-brown hair braided neatly in two parts and a pair of satin ribbons were tied carefully in the end of her braids. For a moment she reminded her of herself as a child, except she never really liked to wear ribbons. A small smile began to form on her face.

"Why is she running, Mommy? Is her daddy waiting for her, too?"

"I have lost something in the small garden backyard," Bonnie replied to the little girl, then began to run again.

Granger:

"Do you know how to cook a braised red cabbage?" asked the fat man suddenly, receiving a glare from the lady. After enduring his idiocy for three long hours, Hermione now knew his name to be Goyle. The other idiot, to whom Goyle was speaking, was Crabbe.

With great enthusiasm, Crabbe responded, "It takes a little time to soften the cabbage perfectly. Cabbage casserole is better."

Their group of four was silent until the two men started their food discussion. Hermione concluded that the men were terrible, as no normal person could enjoy cabbage. No, that was irrational. She shook her head; just because someone loves cabbage doesn't mean they're a terrible person. These two men had more reasons to support her conclusion though; first and foremost, they were henchmen to a lady who had no sense of humanity. Even now, as they approached the basement, her eyes were flashing with excitement.

Hermione's heart started pounding with the thought of being trapped. With every step towards their destination, her tension increased. She was making her best effort to maintain a stoic face, but she could not hide the pale shade it was steadily turning to. She was also certain of the fact that her two fat idiot escorts knew very well how to hurt people.

"Shut your greedy mouths, you two morons," the lady chided hoarsely.

"We were just trying to –"

"Shut up."

The stairs had landed them on a stony pathway leading further down in a dark, dismal passage; the way was blocked from the public by a chain and a "No Admittance" sign.

Hermione recognized their destination a moment later. Anticipating what could be lurking inside that frightening darkness, she shivered and grimaced. She always hated cold dark places, but being abducted was what she was despising the most at the moment. Relax, Hermione. Be calm. All she had to do was find a way to help herself and Ginny. She fingered her pocket and felt the small object that was the sole reason of her troubles.

As if reading her mind, the lady smirked at her, "Looking for a way out, Ms. Granger?" She looked perfectly evil in her long, black velvet coat and equally velvety expressions. "I apologize for your troubles, but you see, what you have to do is what you have to do." The feigned sympathy in her nearly black eyes scared Hermione and made her think of Ginny again.

Please God help me…

The loud bouncing noise of footsteps startled all the four of them; they looked to the stairs and spotted a red-head bouncing down them, every time skipping one or two steps. Hermione recalled seeing the girl with the white tan top and faded denim; she bumped into her the same afternoon in the main entrance of the castle. She released the breath that she didn't realize she had been holding.

"Hey, watch yourself," she waved and approached the girl who was now glancing impatiently at her watch. She lifted her head a little to see Hermione and-

"Ouch! Oh! Help me-"

They heard a scream and she toppled down a couple of stairs, her face buried in the dirt and her own scarlet scarf. Hermione heard a chorus of chuckles behind her and ran to help the girl.

McCullough:

She was feeling tidal waves of heat rushing towards her face and ears; her face was turning as red as a tomato. Damon would make a terrible comment if he was with her now. If he was here. She used her hands to support her body and slowly tried to sit, her elbows screamed pain. The girl who waved at her earlier in the day was by her side now, retrieving her bag and cell phone.

"Are you all right?" she asked with concern.

"Umm…yeah, I am fine. Thanks," muttered Bonnie. Her eyes suddenly narrowed in concentration, "Do I know you? You look familiar."

"We bumped into each other earlier in the hall," responded the girl.

"Exactly," smiled Bonnie as she extended her hand to the other girl. "Thanks. It's been a weird day for me."

Hermione glanced at her companions and stated in a low voice, "Mine too."

Bonnie watched the girl. She seemed serious and intellectually distinct from other girls of her age; poles apart from Bonnie herself. Bonnie snapped herself back to the present; she had to find her missing earrings or else her sister Mary would kill her for losing her favorite jewelry.

"I am in a rush," she said sheepishly. "I need to run, if that's all right?"

"Sure. Watch the stairs, it's almost dark now. And don't lose your bag again." The girl gave her a warm smile. Perhaps it had something to do with the rapidly fading evening light, but Bonnie thought she saw a flash of pride in the other girl's brown eyes; a flash of achievement. But there was no way to find out if what she thought she saw was correct, as the small group had already continued on their way.

She was sitting all alone on the dusty floor of a creepy, lonely castle.

Granger:

"All right, Ms. Granger, now you will show us how to open this tomb," ordered the lady as she scrutinized the gigantic rectangular grave stone, adorned by scarlet flowers with green leaves painted on the corners, highlighted by golden-copper shades. Hermione regarded the tomb from all four directions, completely ignoring the lady's smoldering eyes on her.

"Are you sure this is the right tomb?" Hermione asked thoughtfully, recalling the roughly translated lines she had heard earlier this afternoon. Inside the scarlet tomb there lies a king, and his queen beholds the greatest power one could think… She tilted her head a little to face the lady, whose face had flushed from the pleasure of reaching their destination. "From what I know of him, Albus Dumbledore was a bachelor."

"Well, he had his beloved fiancée who never married; Patricia Jane was buried in this same chamber with him. If you turned, you could see her tomb also."

Hermione had read of the great high king, Albus Percival Brian Dumbledore; there was never any mention of his fiancée. All she learned was how he dedicated his life to his men, and their wellbeing. Astonished, she turned to look at the second tomb in the underground chamber. Lost in her thoughts, she had given Crabbe and Goyle the opportunity to corner her in the darkest corner of the castle.

"Hand me over the pendant," commanded the lady, her enunciation suddenly turned stern. Hermione obeyed her quietly.

"How do you use it?"

"You need to pull out the pin," Hermione mumbled.

In a minute or two she heard a growl followed by a hiss. "Why is it not working?" Hermione gasped some oxygen from the cold underground air and stared at the her blankly, while the lady applied pressure to every possible point and finally grimaced, "Why is it not working?"

"It-it should be," Hermione feebly answered. With more force applied to the small vintage ornament, the lady screamed, losing her last bit of patience.

A stone unexpectedly came unglued in her fingers; a medium sized stone that looked almost exactly like an emerald, although she was certain now that it was nothing but a cheap duplicate. The fake gem sparkled mockingly in her hand.

She started rambling fiercely, her mask of a polished well-mannered high-born lady fell from her face, and she looked every bit like a poisonous serpent ready to attack her prey. "Ten years I have wasted to reach this moment and you planned to ruin it with a cheap duplicate pendant?" screamed the lady with all of her force.

"You will pay for this Hermione Granger."

McCullough:

Bonnie could not find the other earring. Holding one between her thumb and forefinger, she sniffled sharply. Mary would definitely kill her. She heard a faint beep inside her bag and cursed herself for not being more careful. Why had she let her friends convince her to wear matching earrings? Why had Mary agreed to let her borrow them? She put the single piece of the pair down and rummaged through the books and other useful and semi-useful things in her bag; she had put the phone somewhere inside it. She took out her diary, her sunshades, her lip balm, and - a small leather pouch?

Opening the unread message on her phone, she frowned and quickly typed a one line reply to her worried mother, and unzipped the pouch. She pocketed her phone and pushed her fingers inside the bag - the first thing that brushed her skin was a piece of paper. She squinted in the inadequate evening light and discovered it was a torn part of an invitation to the… Chinese Literature Summit. Bonnie frowned thoughtfully on a name scribbled on the card.

Who the hell is Hermione Granger?

_**A/N: Thank you for reading:) Have a happy weekend.**_


	3. Bonnie's Story

_**#2 – The Empty Glass**__**  
**__**Date Posted: February 9th, 2013**_

_**Fandom: The Vampire Diaries**_

_**Rating: T**_

_**Genre: AH**_

_**Content Descriptors: Angst**_

_**Character Pairing: Bonnie McCullough & Damon Salvatore**_

_**Special thanks to my pre-readers Heartstrings13 and Kid Icarus Girl.**_

_**Disclaimer: The characters used in this fiction are creative property of LJ Smith and CW, only the story is mine. The lines used in the beginning and end are by Sara Teasdale (The Kiss).**_

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_**A/N: In the last two chapters you have read two different incidents in Hermione's life, and how she meets with Bonnie McCullough. in this chapter read what happened to Bonnie after that incident in 'The Lonely Castle'.**_

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_**~~ Bonnie's Story ~~**_

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"_I hoped that he would love me,__  
__And he has kissed my mouth,__  
__But I am like a stricken bird__  
__That cannot reach the south."_

I walk alone towards my home. The boarding house remains behind. I hear the loud music, the laughter, and the cacophony of voices arguing over the next episode of the much loved tv series. I hear my best friends jiving with their boyfriends; I also hear their cheerfulness and feel their joy. It's been a long, awfully long time since they had some happy moments to spend with the ones dear and close to them the most. They waited for months until this day, and finally they are celebrating now. Truth is, they deserve this moment; and I have no right to ruin this.

So I am walking out the boarding house and my friends, who are now busy planning a picnic the next day. They are on their high spirits, and they don't really need me.

I sigh silently and walk. I cannot walk hurriedly though, as my fatigued mind keeps me from walking any faster. Instead of running away from the premises I take small steps. I take one small step and I expect someone to call me back.

No one does.

I take another step and wait for a firm grip to hold me back and to force me to stay.

That grip never comes.

I fight with my crazy mind for expecting such things. No one is going to come and stop me cause no one is aware of my decision yet. No one but him, and he would not ruin the party that is beyond any doubt. I chide my crazy mind for expecting things those are never going to happen. My mind, tired but still imagining myself back in the old days.

I hear my friends laughing out loud, pouring chilled soft drinks in their glass; I hear the fizz and doubt my own hearing ability. When did my ears become so efficiently active? Elena announces the venue of the picnic and sips in her drink.

I smile at myself. My glass remains empty, my hopes effervescing so quickly that I fail to recognize myself. Who am I and what am I waiting for?

"Bonnie …" For a very brief moment my heart stops beating. Almost instantly it resumes recognizing the female voice behind me. I try not to break down.

"Meredith?"

"Where are you going?" Meredith pants while speaking, I notice her features beaming and her face flushed. I never saw her blushing before. I eye her cautiously to figure whether she saw what I am so eagerly hiding from others.

"Home. I have to do some... err… stuffs." I reply bluntly, my awkwardness is something I cannot brush off.

"We are planning about the picnic." The light in her face falters a bit, and I pray ardently to my God for giving me some strength.

"I know. I am sorry." I look away. Drinking back my tears I look down.

"Do the rest know that you are leaving?" Her voice sounds so cold and calm it scares me. I am no strong enough to face her right now.

Or maybe this is exactly what I need right now.

Elena was too busy with her official and unofficial boyfriends to notice my heavy heart, and Matt was too busy glaring at Damon that he didn't notice my dejection. They would care for me if they hadn't been occupied. I try to console myself although the heart ache doesn't seem to stop or lessen.

"It is about Damon isn't it?" She stabs me with her inquisitiveness. Poor Bonnie. Weak Bonnie. Little Bonnie who cannot control her emotions. Stupid Bonnie who doesn't know what is right and what is wrong. I curse myself and tremble inside.

"He kissed me Meredith." I start walking again without glancing at hers. I know she will walk with me now. At least I expect so.

Stupid Bonnie. Expectant Bonnie.

"I kissed Damon and he kissed me." I utter the words carefully so that Elena doesn't hear me, and wait to feel the familiar warm rush in my body. I wait to feel the giddiness inside my stomach that I felt the first time he kissed me.

I feel nothing.

"Why did you let him Bon? You always knew he loves Elena. You knew what a manipulative jerk he is. Why did you?" Meredith questions me taking small shallow breaths. From the manner she speaks, I could feel the distress in her voice. Or is it my distress reflecting in her? Am I hearing what I want to hear?

"I am leaving Fells Church Mere, I am accepted in NYU." I state nonchalantly, except my voice sounds moistened. I curse myself. I don't know how she is going to react now.

While saying this to Damon, I expected him to be surprised. A little disappointed because I didn't tell him about this earlier. Forceful because he would try to stop me from leaving Fells Church. Authoritative as he always took care of me and this was his right that I had given him a long time back.

"You can't leave Bonnie." That was what I expected. "My little red bird, when did you grow up so much that you started making decisions yourself? What made you think I would let you leave for New York without any objection?" I almost saw him saying, "just because I got busy with others that doesn't mean I do not care for you anymore. So no you cannot leave like this."

"This is a good news Bonnie." He said. "I am so happy for you, although I wished you to study here in Dalcrest. But you deserve the better than any of us, you deserve the best options. I am so happy for you my dear little red bird." He said and smiled genuinely, and I heard the inexplicably harsh noise of breaking glass. For a while a strong sense of disbelief clouded my head, and I was so convinced that I heard him wrong; that was until I heard him speaking again.

"Take care of yourself, because you know we won't be there to take care of you. You know it would be better if you could stay here with us, Elena and me we would look after you then. NYU is a better option though. Ohh Bonnie, how did you even manage to get accepted there?" His eyes were lacking of any expression so that I could understand what exactly was he feeling inside. "I suppose Elena doesn't know about this. Are you planning a surprise cause if you are I have a better idea to make it exciting and fun."

"So you asked him to kiss you?" Meredith says, and I smile at her. Her eyes stops at mine and my vision blurs.

"He was the first guy to kiss me, and I wanted to relive the moment. I didn't know-" I didn't know it would just break my heart.

"What are you saying Bonnie?" He said narrowing his beautiful eyes and looked around cautiously.

"I am just asking you to kiss me for one last time Damon, like you did that evening in the party. Can you please do that for me?"

"Bonnie I-" He looked confused and withered.

"He kissed me." I mumble and feel Meredith holding my hand. "I felt nothing Mere. Can you imagine I felt nothing when he kissed me? It was so stiff, as if it was not him. It was not him Mere." I stop speaking as a huge lump appears in my throat making everything so difficult.

"It was not the Damon you were looking for Bonnie." Meredith gestures to the open window through which the handsome boy wearing all black attire is partly visible. "This Damon belongs to Elena. He would never ever kiss you that way Bonnie. He would never."

Stupid Bonnie. Childish Bonnie. Immature Bonnie. You will never learn will you?

I cry out finally, though my voice remains inaudible to the party inside.

"_For though I know he loves me,__  
To-night my heart is sad;__  
His kiss was not so wonderful__  
As all the dreams I had."_

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_**A/N: Reviews will be much appreciated. **_

_**Thank you for reading.**_


	4. The Contrite Heart

**_Challenge #4 - Mother's Forgiveness_**

**_Date Posted : February 14th, 2013_**

**_Fandom: Vampire Diaries_**

**_Rating: K+_**

**_Genre: AH / OOC_**

**_Content Descriptors: Hurt/Comfort_**

**_Character Pairing: Alaric Saltzman X Jenna _**

**DISCLAIMER: The characters used in this story is creative property of CW and L J Smith. Only the story idea is mine. The title is taken from a hymn written by William Cowper.**

**Special Thanks to my beta AprilLittle for all the help:) and heartstrings13 for the support.**

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_~~The Contrite Heart~~_

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_Forgive me my sins, Holy Virgin Mother; forgive me the sins of my soul and the sins of my body, my secret and my whispering sins, the sins I have done to please myself and the sins I have done to please others. _

Even while praying, he could not forget the frightened face; skin slightly paled from the shock and brown eyes widened with astonishment. He closed his eyes to keep away the whirl of guilt, but still the remorse never ceased. He attempted to find the immaculate face of the Holy Lady who allowed her only Son to die for mankind, and his sight blurred.

_Forgive those sins which I know, and the sins which I know not; forgive them, Mother, forgive them all of Thy great goodness._

He murmured again, now to himself, "You don't deserve forgiveness, Saltzman. You don't deserve to be forgiven." He listened to the storm as it struck fiercely on his glass window; the wailing increased every second. He turned from the closed window and shut the door; the darkness of his room intensified before his eyes. The flames of the votive candles flickered, which made the shadows look alive.

_In choosing to do wrong and failing to do well, I have sinned against you whom I should love above all things. Forgive me for my ignorance of what I did, Mother; forgive me for the decisions I made._

Though he knew he should not be forgiven. He kneeled down by the idol of the Holy Mother and wept until it became difficult to inhale or exhale. The voices he had been hearing for the past couple of hours became louder; they attacked him brutally. But he deserved the torment, didn't he?

"You don't deserve forgiveness, Saltzman. You knew what you were doing, but you didn't stop yourself. You don't deserve forgiveness," screamed the shadow rushing towards him with an accusing finger, "You don't!"

"I didn't know they would kill that girl . . . I just wanted to avoid her. I just wanted to protect the secret," he wept bitterly, the whole statement made incoherent by his cracked voice. The shadow ignored his words and screamed even louder.

"You killed that girl! You knew once they achieved what they were looking for that they would kill her; still you made them abduct her. You did not need to know who the real owner of that ornament was, but you didn't care."

"Because I had no idea they would find her out . . . the last time I saw the ornament it was in safe hands."

"And you were clueless of the woman's cruel capabilities? There is a reason their family is famous Slytherins. How could you not think about that? How could you?"

"_How could I? How could I? How could I?"_ He wailed and shouted. His body refused to support his tantrum, so he laid down on the wooden floor, his head buried into a soft rug. "Forgive me. I knew what was going on. I knew I had no option to evade the woman. I knew I was trapped. I tried to free myself and I endangered that innocent girl."

His tears subsided. A lightning bolt parted the sky in two and left a question in his mind "Did they really kill her, as he heard the lady instructing her men? Or is she still alive? What has become of her?"

Alaric Saltzman's father was a pious Catholic professor who taught him the good and virtuous way to live life. Alaric could remember every word his father told him from childhood; ironically, it was a stormy night, similar to this one, when he stole something from his classmate and accused someone else. His father told him the story of Adam, Eve, and the snake.

"Ever since Adam fell into sin, man has had a tendency to cover up his sin rather than to confess it. When Adam and Eve sinned, what was their first reaction? Was it to run to God at once and to say, 'Oh God, we have sinned, we have done what You told us not to do?' No. They didn't do that. They ran away from God and tried to hide from Him. What foolishness! Could Adam and Eve hide from Almighty God behind a tree? Sin certainly makes a man foolish.

"The second characteristic of man is to put the blame for his sins on others. When God uncovered Adam's sin, He asked him, 'Did you eat of this tree?' What was Adam's reply? Adam blamed his wife. And his wife blamed the serpent!" His father was saddened while speaking, but his sadness was covered in the darkness of night. He said afterwards, "it is now human nature to act like Adam and Eve. We're always trying to justify ourselves, claiming that we're not responsible for the mistakes we've made. And when we are caught red-handed, we say that we did it in a moment of weakness and pressure. We seek to cover up our sins instead of confessing them. And that's why we cannot receive God's forgiveness."

He recalled that night when his mother came in at last, helping him to come to terms with his wrongful deed and letting him cry. She was the bridge between her naughty non-believer son and her spiritual, religious husband.

"Mother, where are you now? Can you hear me? Can you see me? I just killed a girl mother. I did not kill her with my own hands, but I know she is dead by now and that is my doing.

"They wanted to know about the pendant and the secret hidden inside it. I said I would only tell that to the rightful owner of the sacred pendant, I didn't know they would bring that girl with them the next day. The woman's men were speaking of getting rid of the girl, Mother, I am afraid I have killed her." He heard a loud knock and thrash on his door, the heavy clusters of cumulonimbus roared like an angry lion.

"Open the door, Alaric. Open it now." The wind seemed to find a voice; a cruel voice which called his name. Alaric turned away from the voice and buried his head forcefully in the rug and pressed his palms over his ears, but it did not stop.

"Help me, Mother; forgive me," he continued to repeat the same phrase over and over. He stopped suddenly when the face of the Virgin Mary, his mother, and the young girl who was haunting him came into one single face. The one face he needed the most to see at that moment.

"Oh, Alaric, what have you done with yourself?"

"Jenna, do you think mother will forgive me?" he lifted his body to face his lover, his only family left.

"Of course she will. She will forgive you, Alaric. She will," she hugged him with all her warmth, the tears from her eyes mingling with his own.

"Jenna, take me somewhere else. I cannot stand this place anymore."

* * *

_**A/N: This theme took me a while, I wrote it twice to match the challenge theme and my story. Finally I am happy with what I did, my beta AprilLittle and pre-reader Heartstrings13 deserve a very special thanks for making this challeneg easy for me.**_

_**Thank you for reading.**_


	5. Mirror Mirror On The Wall

_**Challenge # 6 Inanimate POV**_

_**Date Posted : February 28th, 2013**_

_**Fandom: Harry Potter**_

_**Rating: K+**_

_**Genre: AH / OOC**_

_**Content Descriptors: General/ Friendship**_

_**Character Pairing: Harry Potter and his Mirror**_

_**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters used in this story, the story line is though my idea.**_

_**Special Thanks to my beta AprilLittle for making my fictions a good read:) and heartstrings13 for the support.**_

.

_"Mirror, mirror, on the wall…"_

Once upon a time, there was an evil queen; she was the proud owner of a magical mirror who knew answers to all the questions asked of him. Every morning, the queen asked him the name of the fairest woman on the planet. She always hoped for her own name, but the mirror responded with the name she despised the most. I could not imagine the amplitude of the queen's chagrin; I could, however, imagine the satisfaction the mirror must have felt every time he announced the truth, overlooking the possible consequences of his mistress' displeasure. After all, wasn't that why we were created in the first place? To show the misguided people the real facts hidden beneath the camouflage they often mistake as the truth?

Although, you must admit that in most of the cases, the human mind was delusioned. They started to believe what they saw in our surfaces; they took the camouflage as certainty, and their mask became their face before they even knew it. You cannot blame us for this. We are nothing but painted glass; powerful yet delicate, living on your mercy.

This was just as it happened with my master Harry. I came into his possession seventeen years ago when he went to live with Severus Snape, his godfather and legal guardian, after his parents' accidental death. Before that, I belonged to Lily, Harry's mother. I came to Harry packed in a box; wrapped neatly in thick paper and bubble wraps.

My age was more than one hundred and fifty years; hence, I received very special care from my previous masters, and I expected the same from Severus Snape. But it seemed he was not aware of my history, as he decided to hang me on the wall of a simple bluish-grey bathroom that was attached to Harry's room. I never had any experience beautifying the interiors of a bathroom in a bachelor's den, but my eyes were sensitive enough to spot the ill assorted effect created by placing me in the bathroom. My oaken frame and rich golden carvings was completely unacceptable against the artless and inexpensive blue tiles of the bathroom.

Maybe Snape wanted to put me there because he wanted Harry to be near something that reminded him of his parents.

Today I woke up late. I do not sleep, but my master does, and he has an awesome proficiency in that job. During a political protest rally, he once created an example of sleeping in a small broken chair in a stadium full of angrily screaming and shouting students. Today, his best friend, Ronald Weasley, had to beat a drum inside Harry's room in order to wake him up. I was just wondering how they were going to explain that noise to their neighbors when I heard Harry yelling, followed by a thump.

"Have you lost it?" Some hurried footsteps and then I caught another voice, much more jovial than Harry's.

"In case you haven't noticed, it's almost noon now," laughed Ron. His laughter made me laugh too, until Harry growled back.

"In case you haven't noticed, we have neighbors - and Mrs. Webber warned us last week that she would call the police…"

Ron completed his sentence at once, "… the next time we brought our screaming girlfriends here to violate her peace."

The next moment, Harry stood before me in an agitated manner. He grimaced and murmured to himself, "Good morning, Harry Sebastian Snape."

After living seventeen long years of an assumed life that was fabricated to save and protect him from the unfortunate demise his parents had met, he had become Harry Sebastian Snape - the adopted and only son of Severus Snape, a famous pastry chef who was renowned much as much for his baked goods as for his charm with the ladies. Harry can't remember the Harry James Potter he was before he came to live with Snape. He was oblivious to who he was supposed to become one day.

"What's wrong with Snape today?" Ron asked in a muffled voice. He was always hungry, so I guessed he was eating something. Harry scowled. In my surface was displayed an angry reddish-purple bruise on his pretty face, a souvenir of his date last night with a married woman.

"He's just a little mad at me," Harry replied while freshening himself up.

"About your date, I guess?" Ron was still eating. Harry turned around and considered the shut door for a moment then faced me again, mouthing something mutely. Ron's voice came from behind the door again, apologetically, "I'm sorry. I forgot to mention that Helen's husband was waiting for her in her apartment. It was a surprise visit actually. And she-"

Harry slammed open the door and snarled like a maniacal villain, "Get out of my place now or I will kill you, Ron."

After he showered and brushed his brown hair, he moved in front of me. He turned this way and that so he could admire himself and debate how much he resembled his adoptive father, Snape. He did not know how much he resembled his real parents; his eyes, those intelligent compassionate green orbs, were his mother's. The defined features and perfectly sculpted body his female admirers swooned over was his father's gift to him. Every day I try to show him how his charms matched those of his father's and his generosity matched that of his mother's - but he only sees how his personality matches Snape's.

I cannot blame Harry for his thoughts or behavior; it is his nature, or shall I say, human nature. They see the things they want believe; they hear the things they wish to hear. Harry believes himself to be Snape's son - he once wished in front of me if he could forget the brief period he spent with his parents a couple of years ago. He doesn't voice that wish anymore, but his void stares tells me that he still secretly makes it in his mind. I love him so dearly that it hurts me to see him hurt.

I was a mere piece of furniture, a mirror hung on his bathroom wall. I had no right to love my master. I was made to serve and I would do that until the day my delicate body shattered into millions of tiny, diamond-like pieces.

Silently, I waited for the day when Harry would accept his real parentage. Every morning I watched him as I did today. He dressed himself in a fine cotton shirt, denim jeans and then donned a jacket; he wore his glasses after cleansing them, collected his bag and apron, then left. Today was a special day meant for lovers, and he looked pretty excited about his new line of pastries and cakes custom-made according to his client's taste. He was also very excited to attend an exhibition for the sweet dishes that enhanced the sheer bliss of love; he wondered if he would find the special one today, and I wondered what the future would hold for him.

I hope you meet someone special, Harry James Potter. Someone special enough to remind you of who you are and bring you back to me asking the right question – the question I have waited so long to hear. _Who were my parents?_

.  
**A/N: Thank you for reading.**


	6. Oh Brother!

**Challenge # 8 - Talk My Ear Off**

**Date Posted : April 22nd, 2013**

**Fandom: Vampire Diaries**

**Rating: K+**

**Genre: AH / OOC**

**Content Descriptors: General**

**Character Pairing: Damon Salvatore and Stefan Salvatore**

_**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters used in this story, the story line is though my idea.**_

**Special Thanks to my beta AprilLittle for all the help:) and heartstrings13 for the support.**

* * *

~~ Oh Brother!~~

.  
.

"Remind me once more . . . what are we doing here?"

"_Working_, my brother."

"Elena loves baking cakes. She would enjoy this exhibition." The tall and dark raven haired man scowled disbelievingly at his brother in response. Love had turned him into a sick melodramatic teenager.

Damon knew of the drastic changes in his brother, but it was their conversation last week that really confirmed him of this conviction; as usual, Stefan initiated the discussion.

"So what are you planning?"

"For what?"

"Her proposal, of course. Are you gonna take it?"

"We _do_ need the money -"

"- but I smell a conspiracy here."

"So do I."

"So . . ."

Damon stood near his study table and stared at a photograph of his friends; he hadn't heard his brother's last question.

"This job doesn't match our usual work profile," said Stefan. The young man raised his green eyes to look at the only other person present in the room.

"You forget that she has the power to put us behind bars, and I hate prisons."

"The snake lady has performed a lot of dirty deeds, but there's something about this particular job that's giving me an odd feeling; it feels dangerous."

Damon delivered his trademark amused smirk, "Since when do we care about dangerous jobs?"

"Since we fell in love and decided to lead a normal life."

"I thought that was just another cover for us . . . "

"So did I, but you proved me wrong by introducing us as our true selves. Damon, I love being here."

"Does Elena know anything?"

Stefan shook his head and sat on the bed quietly, "She doesn't need to know. Not yet."

"Wise decision."

"It's not. Every moment I spend with her, I feel anxious about our past. I worry about the possible mishaps that could happen to her because of me."

Damon raised his brow, as Stefan continued, "Elena is the kind of life I never had. I don't want any threat there."

Damon shrugged and slouched over the table. Stefan looked at his face with a grim and tired expression, "That doesn't help us in deciding what to do next."

Damon suddenly felt irritated. "Dude, don't give me that I-hate-my-life face. You know how much I despise that."

"We don't have any other options, I guess. Let's take it," Stefan declared. "But this will be our last assignment; after it's over, we'll retire and settle down."

"Of course, brother, we will retire in our early twenties and settle down with girls who have zero knowledge of life." Damon smiled sardonically, then added, "Good idea, but paint me out of your picket fence masterpiece."

"You don't need to be sarcastic."

The discussion ended there, but Damon had a hunch that the whole topic was going to be re-discussed. He sighed and looked at Stefan in a very particular manner, urging him to please be co-operative.

"And who are we looking for?"

Damon pointed, "That's our target."

"Girl in maroon?"

Damon nodded, "She's cute, isn't she?"

"And she's with her friends."

"The Asian girl looks like a problem to me."

Stefan shook his head, "The fat boys will take care of her."

"You keep an eye on her friends, I'll follow the girl."

"Do we have her name?"

"Weasley. Ginevra Weasley."

"Unusual name."

The girl had beautiful auburn hair, straightened and smooth as silk. Suddenly Damon smirked and cleared his throat.

"What?"

"Maybe I should just use my irresistible charm on her instead of threats and fire arms? That would be a piece of cake."

"Or maybe you should be serious, finish the job, and free both of us from this crap."

"Relax, that's what I'm planning on."

Stefan grumbled, "You are hopeless."

"Wrong! I am smart, sexy, and incredibly charming," said Damon with a smirk.

The girl walked towards a shop displaying mouthwatering cakes and pastries, dedicated to the celebration of love.

Damon heard his brother grunting, "Are they going to stand over there for the rest of the night?"

"Have patience, brother."

"This looks like a smart time to start a conversation with a hot young lady who you barely know."

Damon narrowed his eyes, "She's wasting our time."

"Nope, I think she's being a normal girl interested in baking for her lover, who's standing just behind her."

"You noticed him, too." Damon looked at them mischievously. "She is avoiding him."

"Or simply ignoring him . . . she's not even looking at his face."

"Maybe he didn't call her back."

"Or maybe he was a huge jerk to her, like you were to Bonnie."

Damon looked sharply at his face as Stefan uttered her name, "We are not supposed to bring up personal references at work."

"Oh? Was that only me and Elena to notice her face that evening?"

No reply came, so Stefan continued, "You know what? I really never believed that you could hurt her, but you proved me wrong."

"I am not obliged to answer your silly queries."

"Of course you're not."

The plan of wooing their hostage had already failed, as the last thing they needed was a witness to see Damon with the girl. Stefan decided to watch her friends.

The Asian girl looked around and squealed something. They circled around a large heart-shaped white cake, with heaps of raspberries garnished on the top. The owner, a smart young man attired completely in black, strode towards them and started explaining something with a bright proud smile.

"It seems to me we are not the only ones keeping eyes on Miss Weasley."

"She's leaving her friends with the guy, avoiding again."

"We need to get rid of her friends."

"Do you really think she knows where the Granger girl is?"

"She has to; they're best friends and roommates. I bet she left her some sort of message, or else she wouldn't appear so calm and social."

"Or she could be feigning."

Damon shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Distract her friends; I will talk to the girl."

"You don't need to do anything. Look . . . " Stefan gestured to her as she headed towards the loo.

"Great," Damon breathed and prepared himself.

"You don't want to follow her in there."

"There is no time to act proper, Stefan."

"Be alert. Watch him."

"The one she was avoiding?"

"They are together, but maybe in a fight? That might be the reason she was ignoring him."

Damon remained silent for a while before he spoke, "Sometimes it's for the best to ignore your loved ones. It's the safest way to keep them out of danger."

"Are you implying that Weasley doesn't want her guy to get involved, or you are trying to justify your cold behavior towards Bonnie?"

"What?"

"You heard me."

"What is making you say that?"

"Being your brother, I knew very well when you started caring for that girl, and it was not just me who was expecting you to stop her from leaving."

"You should really mind your own business."

"Of course I should."

They remained silent for some time again. They watched as the guy followed Ginevra into the loo, exchanged glances, and waited for right time.

"She has something that could endanger her, and if what I am suspecting is right, then I have no idea how to protect her."

"What are you talking about?"

"She has the pin."

"You mean - "

"We should go inside now. Keep the girls busy."

The parted ways; the last words his brother spoke blinked red inside Stefan's head.

_"She has the pin…"_


	7. Valentines Evening

_********__Challenge# 7 Valentine Loos_

_**Date Posted : April 22nd, 2013 **_

_**Fandom: Harry Potter**_

_**Rating: K+**_

_**Genre: AH / OOC**_

_**Content Descriptors: Romance**_

_**Character Pairing: **__**Ginny Weasley**_ X _**Harry Potter **_

_**DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters used in this story, the story line is though my idea.**_

_**Special Thanks to my beta AprilLittle for making my fictions a good read:) and heartstrings13 for the support.**_

.

**_.  
_**_~~Valentines Evening~~ _

.

"Ginevra Weasley. What a pleasant surprise!"

Ginny nearly jumped out of her skin hearing the very familiar male voice just behind her back. She turned to face the proud owner of the voice, but as soon as she did, her face contorted in an angry bitterness.

"What the hell are you doing in the ladies room?"

"Chasing you," he replied matter-of-factly. "You obviously weren't going to talk to me in front of others so I followed you here." He looked around and cocked his eyebrow.

"Get out, Harry."

"Oh, but I like it here," Harry smiled arrogantly.

"I don't want to talk to you," said Ginny as she turned her back to him and peered into the large mirror in front of her. She took out the slick square case of a compact from her purse and opened it. She tried to focus on her own reflection, but from the corner of her eye she noticed Harry strolling up behind her.

"I don't want to talk either, Sweetheart."

Something fluttered inside her stomach as she watched Harry in the mirror. His countenance, audacious and shameless, sent a shiver through her spine. She hated to lose control in a public place, and she knew from past experience that she would lose it very soon. She snapped at him.

"Harry, you-"

He placed a finger over her thin painted lips. Her body grew cold. She reached out for the door to leave.

"The door is locked, and you are trapped. Now tell me, why were you avoiding me at the exhibition?" Ginny thought he sounded husky. _No, she concluded the next moment, he __was sounding husky. She shook her shoulders out of habit to remove his arm from her – and immediately noticed he was not even touching her._

"Answer me. You didn't even look at me. Why?" he demanded, but maintained a small distance between them. She felt his warm breath on her smooth skin and a couple of sweat beads appeared on her forehead, neck and palms.

She did look at him, but it was so subtle and secretive that none of her friends, or the visitors who praised his delicious cakes and pastries noticed. He was dressed in a black dress shirt, with blazer and trousers to match. He left the top two buttons open, displaying the delicious skin underneath the clothes; it took her less than a second for her mind to drift back to that night a month ago - to reminisce about the delectable taste of his skin, and the frantic wet kisses they shared. But it wouldn't be a good idea to tell him that would it?

The flutters in her stomach started as she took a small whiff of his Yves Saint Laurent L'Homme, the one fragrance he wore especially for occasions like these. With great difficulty and uncertainty in her voice, she said, "We decided to behave normal. As we were before—"

"Before sleeping with each other? Yes, that I remember."

She cringed at his words and averted her eyes.

He touched her auburn hair with his fingers and stepped a little closer, "We were never like this, Ginny - not talking to each other, not looking into each others eyes? This is not how 'normal' should be."

_"Well, this is the new normal," Ginny thought, "__the relationship never remains the same once you have sex with a person." But instead of saying that, she mumbled a short reply, "I wanted to avoid you."_

"Because one single night changed everything?"

Ginny felt a shock and looked up into his eyes, "Stop it, Harry." She whispered in a low tone, "I'm begging you."

"Stop what?" Harry took one more step towards her and asked innocently. But the gleam in his eyes didn't look so innocent. Ginny, afraid of losing her last bit of courage, stepped back.

"Stop this. Harry, you know very well how Ron will react once he learns about us."

"I thought you said there was no _us, it was just a one night thing?" He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. "Or are you convinced now that we could have something more?"_

She used to think they could have. Why the hell else would she have wasted so many sleepless nights after that one party? Her days and nights were so restless that she tried every possible option to forget Harry, which even included dating other guys from her workplace. Nothing proved to be effective.

"Can I convince you a little more?" he cooed.

"Don't touch me, Harry," Ginny protested feebly. He looked amused. Running his hand through his hair, he lowered his head, as if to suppress laughter. Ginny stared at him; looking at his messy hair, she suddenly felt the need to run her own hands through his hair. She wanted to grab hold of him and press her own body forcefully against his.

"I don't need to touch you, Gin," he whispered as one does when sharing a secret, "I can make you do things even without touching you."

Ginny realized her restraint was completely ravaged now. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, and couldn't even speak. Her throat was dry, and she herself was shamelessly wet. Harry definitely knows how to make her do 'things' without touching her. He had done that before, and was capable of doing that again and again until she was drained. She shook in trepidation and anticipation.

"Don't you dare lie to me, Ginny. I know how badly you want this. I can sense you," he whispered against the sensitive skin of her neck. He took a deep breath, "I can smell you."

Helplessly, Ginny closed her eyes. She wanted to stop this, but the sensations rippling through her body were working against her brain. She was supposed to leave, but she stayed. She remained, quietly relishing the heat emanating from his hard body, and the intoxicating smell of the expensive cologne on his skin.

"Say you want this, too. You want to be with me."

Hypnotized under the spell he was casting, she murmured, "I want you."

"I want to stop playing games; I want it for real. Tell me you want it, too," he said. He was pleading to her, and that vulnerability was debilitating to her constraint.

"I want to be with you, Harry," she said, deciding it was the truth. She did want to be with him.

"Tell me how badly you missed me?"

Terribly… every moment elongated and turned into an infernal experience. Just one night with him changed her forever. She looked into the mirror and could barely recognize her own skin anymore, it was so soft and creamy. Her eyes were so coy; she felt shy even looking at her own reflection. Her lips were lush and pink; she needed no lip gloss to beautify them. Her nerves were so sensitive and responsive, they reciprocated to the tiniest thought of Harry.

She didn't reply, just remained silent, trembling between the coolness of the wall and the warmth of his body.

The wall . . . she found her back pressed to the cold wall of the loo.

_Bloody hell, Ginny, what is happening?_

"Harry we should—" she tried to form a complete sentence, but Harry cut in.

"Tell me how your date was - was he interesting? Did you like him?"

Ginny shook her head, "No, he was not."

He was invisible. The fact was, Ginny failed to look at him properly. Poor guy. He tried to make an impression, but Ginny was too engrossed in comparing him with Harry that she didn't bother to notice or remember any of the things he did.

"Did he kiss you the way I did?"

She gasped at his query. The taste of his lips came into her mind. It was bittersweet, like dark chocolate, mixed with rich wine. A faint pain as he bit her lower lip and the soothing touch afterwards as he grazed his tongue over the same place. The sweet intrusion inside her mouth; it was like a game they played . . . with hungry intentions.

"Did he touch you the way I did?"

Ginny flashed back to the first time her skin made contact with Harry's, his fingers playing with the twists and turns of her delicate body, the ascents and the slopes. How madly addictive his caress was; how wet he made her. How his strokes had taken her to the precipice of oblivion.

_Damn, she was losing control of her senses._

"He did not kiss me. He did not touch me. I didn't let him." She opened her eyes and was stunned to see herself in the mirror, seated on the black marbled counter of a loo in a five star hotel's banquet hall - and in front of her was standing a man she had a crush on ever since she was ten years old, holding her firmly by the waist. Astonished, she watched herself spread her legs for him, and he buried his face in her hair. She could only see her face now, furiously flushed over his broad shoulders, nearly the color of the maroon off-shoulder dress she had worn for the evening. She sighed, biting her lower lip and moaned into his ear.

She started kissing him fervently, completely forgetting the fact that she decided to forget him. Forgetting that they were in a public place; anyone could catch them in such a compromising situation. She went on kissing him, madly thrusting herself to his hardened body and firm chest, taking over his mouth. He tasted like wine.

The fine state of oblivion didn't last long. She heard some loud footsteps in the loo. She tried to pull away, but Harry wrapped his arms around her firmly. They stayed that way, exploring each other until a silky smooth authoritative tone snapped at them.

"Playtime is over, Miss Weasley."

.


	8. Harlem Shake

**_Challenge # 12 - Harlem Shake_**

_**Date Posted : April 22nd, 2013**_

_**Fandom: Vampire Diaries**_

_**Rating: K+**_

_**Genre: AH / OOC**_

_**Content Descriptors: General**_

_**Character Pairing: Tyler Lockwood and Mason Lockwood**_

**_DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of the characters used in this story, the story line is though my idea._**

_**Special Thanks to my beta AprilLittle for all the help:) and heartstrings13 for the support.**_

* * *

_~~Harlem Shake~~_

"What shake?"

"Harlem Shake, Mom. It's a hilarious idea!"

Forty year old Carol Lockwood raised her brow nearly to her hairline as her son spoke animatedly about something she had never heard of in her entire life. She stared at her eighteen year old son, hoping he wouldn't explain anything related to teenage hormonal problems. Recently, he had been acting weird, and her husband dismissed her suggestions of taking him to a Shrink by simply assuring her that it's just another teenage issue. Father's could react so irresponsibly sometimes.

Tyler worked supernaturally fast on his iPhone and showed the screen to his mother. Carol discovered that there is actually a whole page on Wikipedia that is dedicated to this peculiar subject. Suddenly a thought crossed her mind, and she almost jumped from her bed.

"Is this something related to witchcraft or black magic?"

"Mom, first of all you need to relax," Tyler smiled and handed the phone to his mother. "Harlem Shake is nothing but a sort of hilarious video."

Carol nervously skimmed through the Wiki page. "_The Harlem Shake is an Internet meme in the form of a video in which a group of people perform a comedy sketch accompanied by a short excerpt from the song "Harlem Shake". _

"Wait, there's a song too?"

"Yes. I think I should show you some videos. You'll understand better." Tyler grabbed the phone and the next minute there was a strange sort of music accompanied by two very familiar young men, one of them was busy with something, and the other was dancing.

"Those are the boys from that horror show-"

" 'Supernatural', right! Jensen and Jared. This is Caroline's favorite video."

After three seconds the screen was a circus, a crowd dancing wildly with the strange beat, wearing funny and silly masks. Carol frowned for some time, and finally she shook her head.

"This is crazy."

"Crazy and hilarious! So what do you think? Mason would love this, right?"

Carol nodded. From what she knew of her brother-in-law, he would definitely love this.

In fact, Carol loved the crazy beat herself; yet she gave her son a wary look. Before letting the kids go for anything experimental, she had to know how they were going to execute everything.

Tyler explained further, "It seems crazy, but they actually have some rules. Firstly, the original dancer must wear a mask. Then, at least one dancer has to be gyrating or humping in the air. At least one has to be almost naked…" he noticed his mother raising her brow to her hairline again. "Relax Mom, that just means you'll have to wear something that makes it _look_ like you're naked."

Carol pointed at the tiny screen and nodded, "I just saw what it means, Ty. Next rule?"

"At least one person should wear a costume; it should be something unique, of course."

Finally after ten more minutes of convincing, Carol Lockwood proved herself to be the coolest mother in Mystic Falls.

Caroline bounced in with a little girl, "Meet my cousin Bella. Bella, this is Tyler."

The little girl smiled at Caroline as she introduced them, "This is the Tyler you chat with all night long?"

Caroline ignored the question and joined the plans. They had a whole group of crazies, and Caroline, as always, was expecting her friends to be there. Surprisingly, no one in the assembled group of fifteen were known to her.

"I see you already have a big gang, Ty," she said while texting in her phone. Tyler smiled and his phone beeped.

_Who are these guys?_

He typed back immediately. _I don't know_.

_You invited strangers?_

_No, I didn't_.

An angry emoticon came back with a confused sign. Tyler grabbed her and walked hastily to the kitchen.

"I called some of them, Matt called two or three guys, they called their friends, and it went on. They are so excited about this whole thing that I am freaking out now."

Caroline widened her eyes, "What? Ty, it was your idea and you have to execute it."

"But how? They all have their own ideas; they brought Wizard of Oz theme, soccer players, basketball players, army troops, Star Trek, Selena Gomez, Brangelina . . ." His face reddened, "How do I execute this?"

"You do nothing, that's the idea."

"Urghhhh . . ."

Caroline smirked. Frustrated Tyler looked so cute and hot.

The crowd was about to start a high frequency argument when Tyler and Caroline reappeared.

"Mom's gonna kill me for this chaos," Tyler exclaimed, wiping off the last stain of pink lipstick from his mouth. Caroline looked around for a while and jumped up on a large wooden box. She took a microphone in her hand and chirped.

"Hello guys, I understand your enthusiasm in making this video, but if you don't stop whatever you think you are doing I will make sure you never get to finish your own Harlem Shake."

"Whoa, who's that chick?"

A lean boy answered to a grumpy kid's query, "Sheriff Forbe's daughter."

When around three o'clock Carol Lockwood drove in, she was glad to see Matt, Caroline, Tyler and a little girl. She was also pretty surprised that her home was so noiseless.

"I thought you were busy on your shake video?" Matt looked at Carol and then looked away.

"Caroline scared our team," he murmured.

"Forgive me if I drove away some stupid homeless guys before letting them create the massacre of the year, Matt."

Carol had to be the most patient person in Mystic Falls to understand their problem. She concluded in three points: One, her son was freaking out. Two, Caroline was being too picky about everything from costumes to the venue. Three, Matt was not sure how many of his friends would show up. And there was another little problem.

"I want to dance, too!" Everybody looked at Bella as she giggled, "It sounds fun."

"Can we let her?"

Carol nodded to Caroline with a smirk. "We can if she listens to me and wears a little make-up." She strode inside her house.

"Wait, Mom, where are you going?"

"You children are so helpless without your parents."

_Meet me.-J_

Mason Lockwood loves to watch his flat screen television past midnight. His addiction to horror movies was hysterical, but they don't make great horror anymore. He watched 'The Exorcist' a long time back, and he could still feel the shivers on his skin.

Tonight he was in the middle of 'The Ruins' when he received the strange text from his girlfriend Jules.

She was supposed to be with him tonight, but she went AWOL this afternoon.

He replied back. _Where?_

An address came back; it was an old cemetery between Fells Church and Mystic Falls. Even in the text, she seemed aloof. He sent her another text. _Is everything alright?_

No reply.

_U ther?_

Again, no reply.

He donned a jacket, checked his wallet and grabbed his car keys. Glancing at his wrist watch, he calculated it would take ten minutes to reach the cemetery. It was 11:45 now. He hurried, dialing Jules number.

The phone rang, but no one took his call.

He drove too fast, without thinking of anything else. He was too nervous and afraid to think about anything; whenever he tried to think, he only ended up concocting something bad and troublesome. He just hoped Jules was all right.

The long history of the founding families was not the reason the cemetery was famous; it was the rumors associated with this deserted piece of land. The sculptures of angels and gargoyles bore the signs of old age and nature's painful tortures. He parked the car outside of the cemetery and walked inside, a large torch in his hand. He gently pushed the main gate; it opened with a loud noise. He looked at the rusty iron that stained his shirt.

The high gates were broken down as well. No one guarded these gates anymore, as there was nothing left to be taken care of. Even the corpses buried under the ground had turned into dust. How long had it been when people finally stopped coming here? Mason's father was alive when it happened, so nearly fifty years, he supposed.

He looked around carefully, waited a moment and called out for Jules. No reply came. He did the same again. This time he received a moan.

"Mason, help me . . ."

He ran to the middle of the cemetery, where an archangel stood with his sword raised, to keep people away from his territory.

"Jules?" he sensed someone's presence behind him and spun around. He found . . .a little girl.

"Are you lost?" Mason looked incredulously at the little girl as she asked him something he never imagined she would ask. He observed her and suspected it was a dream.

The girl was wearing a full-length white gown; her black hair was hanging around her shoulders. Half of her face was covered; the other half was pale white, lips pink as roses. He had seen this face, and enjoyed her in 'The Ring' too, but he hadn't expected her to come out of the well - to this cemetery - and ask him that. He looked up and down as loud music started pounding around him.

All of a sudden, there were two werewolves, two vampire girls, a witch, Dracula himself, a half naked zombie and three African tribal guys dancing around him. He also noted some strangers dancing in ordinary dresses wearing funny wigs and glasses. It took him three seconds to realize what was happening. Before he knew it, he was dancing with the witch.

"Happy birthday, Mason," screamed the crowd and the werewolf lady hugged him.

"Thank you guys, thanks a lot," Mason smiled. He was losing his breath, "and Jules, you scared me to death!"

Jules winked. "I know. I am awesome."

"You'll thank us later when this video is up on YouTube." Vampire Caroline smiled and wished him a happy birthday.

"Thanks, Caroline. Is that werewolf my nephew?"

"Hey, I am a hybrid!" Tyler jumped, "By the way, the theme was Mom's idea."

The witch smiled and bowed.

The next hour went by partying in a cemetery, which was weird, but full of fun. The party went on until a police van interfered. The three officers had quite the difficulty with the family lawyer, who poured coke down his throat while he wore the half-naked green zombie costume. With some effort and the video footage, Mayor Lockwood, her son Tyler, and Sheriff Forbe's daughter Caroline finally conquered them. However, they had to make a promise to visit the police station the next day and help them process some formalities.

"So this was my best birthday party ever," Mason concluded at dawn, tired and in dire need of a nap, yet so much alive inside. He hoped this morning was going to start with a colorful chapter.


End file.
